For The Love of Hate
by Froz Flame
Summary: The relation between yami and hikari is a unique one. But not all dark sides are from ancient Egypt... and now he's breaking all means of sanity to make Malik his. And Malik isn't exactly accepting it.
1. Darkness

A/N: Hehe… I said I was writing a yaoi, and I am! Don't kill me if it sucks, it's my first one. Although it's not the pairing I had originally planned on using, but this is what Inspiration handed me, and I take what Inspiration gives me. I decided to use all Japanese names this time, why I do not know, so nah! The style of writing is a little weird, but that's how it's suppose to be. So please enjoy. And flame me if you will, I'll use them to light the torches in my dungeon! Fun, neh?  
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! is owned by a Japanese man named Kazuki Takahashi. I'm an American teenage girl that goes by Froz Flame. See the difference?  
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It was night. To be more specific, it was the point between the setting moon and the rising sun; the darkest time. Yami Malik materialized next to his sleeping hikari. How he hated his hikari, yet he had to love him at the same time. Oh how little his poor innocent light knew. He had tried to stop his hikari from feeling any pain, from feeling hurt. So he did it the only way he knew how—killing, murder, homicide, whatever you wanted to call it, that's what he did. But all the people he had slaughtered didn't satisfy his hikari. And as a result, he had been locked away. But he had found away around such restrictions. Yes, nothing was going to stop him, from getting his revenge on the world, and his hikari.

But how could he hurt something so naive? He carefully took a step towards his sun-kissed hikari. He smirked a bit—if he wanted to, he could stab the light to death right now. The thought of this caused him to snicker slightly, in his own insane manner. Suddenly, his hikari's calm, steady breathing was broken- the bleach blonde sixteen year old was stirring. Panicking, he backed up until he tripped over a piece of discarded clothing, causing him to fall over.

His cold heart skipped a beat has he heard his hikari's voice like a foghorn in a quiet forest, "Yami… not now…." And inaudible moans, grunts, and then snoring followed this. He breathed a sigh of relief; his hikari was just sleep talking—nothing more. Why was he so nervous about his hikari discovering his little nighttime visits? There was nothing wrong with them… was there? No, no of course not. It was perfectly normal. Well, as normal as it could ever be for someone like him, that's for sure.

He stared intently at the bed where his sleeping light lied. What were these feelings? Hate? Or, dare he think it- Love? He had learned before that there was a fine line between these two emotions. At the moment he didn't have time to ponder this; a glimmer of daylight caught on the Millennium Rod sitting on the bedside table. It was time for him to retreat to the confines of his soul room; the sun was rising.

A few hours later, said hikari began to wake. His eyes flickered open as he raised a hand to block out the sunbeams beating in through the partially open curtain. So he sat up, and became apart of the world of the living once again.

Malik Ishtar looked anything but conscious as he stumbled in to the bathroom that was connected to his bedroom. Stripping off his boxers he turned on the water and stepped into the shower.

Letting out a slight yelp as hot water splashed against his bare skin, he soon relaxed and became use to the sudden change of temperature. He stayed in there as long as humanly possible before the water turned cold. After that he wrapped a towel securely around his waist and strode into his room to pick out the day's wear.

Malik rejected several shirts and tossed them over his shoulder before he settled on lavender colored midrift. Choosing out a pair of pants was less difficult and tasking; the only pairs he owned were either black leather or khakis. He settled on khakis.

As he was fussing with the gold chains that hung from the front of his shirt, the door burst open. "Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you, but there is a boy here to see you," one of his faithful servants said, bowing down on one knee.

"I am not a boy," A figure that stood around 5'11" or so stepped into the room. "I am the spirit of a five thousand year old Egyptian tomb robber."

"You don't have permission to be here unless given!" the servant complained.

"It's alright," Malik said, waving his hand. "Now leave us." With a 'yes sir' the servant was gone within seconds, leaving the two alone.

"Bakura," he gave a simple greeting to his white haired companion.

At the sound of the ancient spirit's name, Yami Malik let out a mental hiss. That stupid thief was trying to steal his hikari; the other yami knew it. Well, he would get Bakura soon enough. He would get everyone. Nobody would be left. Except him. Yes, he would rule over everything that was nothing. Even though ruling over nothing didn't sound too appealing, at least he would have control. He liked control. Control was good. He began to cackle manically, his evil laughter ringing throughout Malik's mind.

_YAMI! What on earth are you going on about?_ but he didn't get a reply. Malik sighed inwardly- he never got a reply. His yami barely spoke two words to him a month.

"Dark side troubles?" Bakura smirked slightly at the look on Malik's face. Bakura had always viewed Yami Malik as a lesser; never equal to him or Yuugi's yami. But of course, Bakura was nowhere as bad as Yami Malik. Bakura actually cared about his light side, though you'd never get him to admit it. Yami Malik had never showed that he cared at all- not one damn bit.

"He's always like this. Never can get a full sentence out of him," Malik responded. "So, what did you need, that you had to come here in the morning for?"

"Oh nothing much," Bakura said simply. "Just wanted to chat and see if you had anything that needed to be done, life's pretty mundane without any evil schemes to play out."

Malik looked at him in disbelief, "That's what you came to tell me? My dark side's too psychopathic for me to get involved with anything. I'm taking a break, go find your amusement somewhere else."

"I also came to get my reward," he stared pointedly at the Millennium Rod. "You never gave it to me my payments after Battle City."

Malik frowned at this. "I said you may have the Millennium Items in my possession if I got the two god cards I needed. As you can see I have no god cards anymore, thanks to my yami and his egotistically ways."

"No, you said if I helped you to get into the finals, you would give them to me. It's not my fault your plans got screwed thrice over," Bakura demanded, his temper elevating several levels.

"No god cards, no Millennium items for you," Malik explained.

Bakura was beginning to get a bit annoyed. He had put up with the blonde's demands up till now. He wanted some payment. "Listen here, pretty boy. Do not think to use me like these servants you have wandering around this palace of yours," he grabbed the front of Malik's shirt.

Yami Malik's rage shot of the charts at this act. _Get your filthy thieving hands off of him!_ He snarled mentally to no one in particular. _He's mine and you can never have him. Do you hear me? NEVER._

Although their mind link was closed, Yami Malik's emotions were so strong Malik could feel them through the mental door that separated their thoughts. Usually when his yami's feelings were this violent, someone was sure to die. This realization sent him into a slight panic.

Bakura was unaware of the sudden surge that had taken place in the boundaries of Malik's mind. He thought he had caused the fleeting look of fright that spread across Malik's features. "Not so tough now, eh?" Bakura spat pushing Malik away from him. "Heed my warning, and remember what I said…" He seemed to fade into the shadows and disappear.

Malik relaxed at bit after his accomplice left. Again, he pursued his other half for some answers for the sudden outburst. But his yami was anything but cooperative. _Yami… Yami, please… _he pleaded. _I just want to talk… it's just you and me you now, nobody else is here. _But his efforts were futile. Yami Malik stayed silent amongst his hikari's begging. If only he could tell Malik what he wanted, what his desire was. He couldn't, that would ruin the delicate relationship the two shared.

_I want you… I need you…_ he thought to himself. _But I can't have you._ He snarled in frustration. How can you hate something you love, and love something you hate? It was improbable, it defied all logic ever stated- ever known. Even if he wasn't one for logic, he had to draw the line somewhere.

All this thinking was giving him one big headache, and headaches made him pissed. So once again he found himself in a situation where the only solution was massacre. Somehow the feeling of another's life slipping away at his fingertips always calmed his nerves.

He must of let some of his ideas leak through because he was greeted with his hikari whining to him, _Don't kill now, there's time for that later._ Truth be told, Malik wanted to remain inconspicuous as long as possible. Several deaths weren't going to help his case. Although he had perfect confidence that his dark side was a competent murderer and wouldn't leave any evidence that would connect them to the bodies, he still didn't want to take a chance. It was too risky. He needed to lay low after his botched hack-in to Seto's tournament. There were still authorities on the look out for his blonde head. After a couple of months, then his Yami Malik could do whatever he sought to fit his fancy.

Malik was oblivious to the fact that Yami Malik had been listening in. The thought that his hikari would soon let him do as he damn well pleased excited him. Mass killing sprees, theft beyond his wildest dreams, and his light all to himself; these things would make a very happy yami out of him. Delighted with his newfound information, he lost himself in fantasies.

It was the darkest hour of the night once again. And just like he did every night, Yami Malik materialized next to Malik. "My hikari, my light," he said softly, in a dangerous tone. "You are mine, and mine alone. Nobody else but I shall have you… you belong to me." He was being more daring than he ever was before. Standing right above Malik, he trailed one finger down the light's cheek. "I'll make sure no one hurts you. For only I can do that. Only I can hurt you." The blonde twitched slightly under his touch, but it did not send him into a frenzy like it usually would have. This night was different somehow.

"Yes little one, sleep well," he would make his move one of these days. Whether it be to kill or kiss, he did not know. Only when that day came, then he would be able to tell. But tonight was not the time. And he knew it. Everyday, or night if you want to get technical, the dark side was one step closer to going over the edge. Some called him psychotic, others deranged. But to Malik, he was just Yami. And what he was to Malik was all that mattered to him. The sun drifted on to the top of the horizon, his time was up.  
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A/N: That's it for now. Review please. Latta.


	2. Advances

A/N: Thank you for you good reviews! I love this, I think it's turning out rather well. Can you guess who's point of view the sections are being told in? I'm not telling! XP But it's easy to guess…  
Disclaimer: I still do not own YGO  
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There's a voice that whispers to me in the darkness, as I sit here dwelling in pain and raging hate…

_You want to kill him.  
_

No… no I don't.

_Yes you do, admit. You want to feel his life slip away at his fingertips._

I would never want to kill him!

_Stop lying to yourself. He hurt you, he hurt the ones you care about. You _want _him to feel pain like you have. You want to torture him far beyond mortal comprehension, you want to—  
_

Shut up! SHUT UP! I don't! I swear I don't!!

_Yes… you do. Hunt. Kill. Torment. Murder. I see it in your dreams  
_

Stop it! Leave me alone! Go away!

_Stop? Go away? I could never do that. I'm always here, always watching… always waiting in the shadows where the sun refuses to shine it's rays._

Try as I might, I can't ignore this urging. It's pounding in my head. It's driving me insane. I'm not sure how much more I can take.

_Kill_.

The voice repeats itself over and over. I hate it when he talks. Usually he'll never say a word. But when he does speak… I don't want him too. He toys with me, like I'm an animal with no feelings. He… he taunts me, wants me to kill. Sometimes he says things…

_Kill him, won't you? For me? Just kill him for me._

I don't answer this. Why would I do anything for him? He's a part of me, yes… but a part I do not want to have. He's killed so many innocents, including my own. He brutally shattered my once innocent mind oh-so long ago before I wish to remember. Sometimes I can feel him watching me through our bond. I can feel his eyes—so like mine, yet so different—piercing into the deepest depths of my darkened mind. I hear him whisper in the night, even though he doesn't know it. I hear his sweet words that mean nothing. I will myself to not believe them. How could any creature such as himself love anything at all? He doesn't even respect life itself. Nothing is sacred. He divulges the feeling of taking life away, as I fear he will do to me one day. He likes playing God.

_I hear you crying… let me easy your pain. I will take the soul of the one who did this._

I tell him no. I refuse. But he never listens to anything I say. Never listens. But I listen. I know his thoughts. I don't think he realizes that I stay awake at night in terror. I hear every night when he tells me that he will not hurt me. But it tortures me inside to think of all the pure that have suffered because my foolish hatred allowed him to be released. It's all my fault, my loathing that gave him shape. Yes, it's hard to believe I have a heart, but I do. Even he has a heart, a cold and twisted one, but a heart nonetheless.

He is guiltless, though. He has no remorse for the crimes he has committed. I hear him laughing after he murders. It's horrible, but nobody dares oppose him, he'll just kill them as well. These memories torment me in my broken sleep of nightmares and mixed emotions, along with his tempting rambling that I can't erase from my thoughts. No matter how much I try ignoring him, and ignoring what my brain is telling me, I won't admit, that I might be falling for him…

Hate created me, love shattered my existence. Yet, I have learned to love despite this fact. But I love my light. But I also abhor my light. I hate to love, and love to hate. It sounds crazy, yes, but am I not crazy? I know you think so, you don't have to lie. I can tell when people lie. I don't like it; it makes me want to crush them more. More blood. More pain. More pleasure. Yes… exactly the way I like it. Heh, of course you would expect that from someone like me. 

But then again I suppose there is a lot you assume about me. Don't be too quick to assume though, there might just be a wild card in my hand. Just like I bet you thought I could never love anything. But I do.

_Y-yami?_ he inquires nervously.

_Yes?_ I purr with a chocolate poison laced voice. I love the uncertainty I hear in his voice. Hikari; light. He's mine. But I know his eyes do not ever wander towards me. Those brilliant violet orbs of his rather stray towards a certain white-haired one.

But what really riles me is that he will not kill Yami Yuugi because of Yuugi. Not even during that tournament did he want to kill him. Only break him—destroy his will. But not kill. I've tried to convince him everyway I can; nothing seems to be working. Soon, though, I will get what I want. I always get what I want. And Malik will be mine, broken and loyal to me alone.

Malik had set up a rendezvous with Bakura behind an old warehouse in the outskirts of the city. He had heard about something the thief might be interested in enough to get him off the Egyptian's case. When Malik arrive there on his motorcycle, the spirit hadn't arrived yet, so the blonde waited in the shadows.

_Hikari… why do you wait for him?_ Malik gave a slight start.

_Gah! Yami! Don't scare me like that!_ His yami never usually talked so much. And when his yami was in a talkative, it usually wasn't good.

"Lighten up, you're really tense…" this time his Yami's voice wasn't whispered in his head, but in his ear. Two strong muscular tan arms snaked their way around Malik's neck. 

Malik quickly pulled away. He turned around and faced his double. Yami Malik smiled impishly, darkness shadowing his face, giving him a slightly sinful cast. "Hikari… why do you hesitate?"

"I- I-" Malik stuttered fearfully.

The spiked haired hate-created spirit laughed maliciously. "I won't hurt you… much that is." Malik was about to reply, but his Yami disappeared.

To shaken to stay there any more, Malik left, not caring that Bakura would be angry with him. The roar of his motorcycle seemed to drown out the torrent of confused thoughts that raged through his mind.

When he arrived home, he nearly dashed to his room and locked the door. This would prove useless if his yami decided to torture him, but Malik still felt somewhat safer with this security device in place.

Looking out his window, dusk approached quickly. His yami's fell voice would soon be whispering meaningless empty words into his mind. Flicking off his light, he laid down on his bed for another night of unrest.  
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A/N: Sorry that this chapter sucks majorly. Xx


	3. Rain

A/N: I'm going to exclude Author Notes up here in following chapters. All present up here shall be the Disclaimer. ;  
Disclaimer: Well… I've been trying for well over a year, and still no success in getting YGO to be signed over in my name…  
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_Every night I'm kept awake by all your screams. Those rages and terrors, the love and the pain… All these feelings I get—the feelings I discern from you—I can't seem to erase them. They stay lodged in my memory for eternity. When I stop to think about it… I hate everything about you, but why do I love you? If you hate everything about me, why do you love me? I hate. You hate. Why hate? Why love? It just doesn't make any sense…_

Malik lay sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He could hear the rain as it splashed on the already waterlogged earth. He laid there with a vacant gaze, totally listless-like a void wanting to be filled. A servant rapped quietly on his door, which the blonde pointedly ignored. 

"Sir?" The servant poked his head in. When Malik didn't answer, the servant—slightly concerned—walked over to his master. "Sir, there's someone here to see you."

Instantly Malik snapped out of his daze and glared, "Who said you could come in?"

The servant was now frightened that he would be killed. He had heard horror stories about what happened to disobedient servants. Some kind of painful, long torture was set on them before they were finally put out of their misery with an equally painful and long death. "Sir, my deepest apolo—" He was cut off suddenly by another voice.

"Nobody tells me what to do Malik. I thought I already explained this to you before," Bakura replied softly with an air of authority. "I will enter any room I please."

_Like hell you will!_ snarled a fourth voice; this one in Malik's mind.

_Yami hush!_ Malik scolded. Turning his attention to the other in the room, the Egyptian ordered, "Get out." With a skittish bow the servant dashed away. Malik looked back to Bakura, who had chosen to lean against the wall. "What do you want exactly? This is the second time in three days you have come into my room without permission."

Immediately the white-haired tomb robber responded, "Where were you yesterday? There was no sign of you at the designated meeting point."

The scene flashed through Malik's mind before he shoved away to the blackest region of his memory. "Something came up and I couldn't make it."

Bakura looked thoroughly annoyed, "You could have told me at least, you son of a bitch."

Rage flickered across violet eyes, and without any resistance, the switch was made. As fast as lightning, a tan hand had wrapped around a pale neck. "Watch that forked tongue of yours, thief," Yami Malik said in a deadly whisper.

Due to lack of air, Bakura was unable to do anything but claw desperately at his killer's arm. Letting out a last few gasping breaths, his reddish-brown eyes rolled back in their sockets, and his body instantly became limp. "And good riddance to that," said the other yami as he carelessly tossed the empty, lifeless shell into a corner. _Hikari, you might want to get one of your servants to come clean up the trash in here. It might start to smell. _Yami Malik reported to his hikari in a slightly sadistic tone.

_Clean up the trash-? Oh my God! YAMI!! Don't tell me that you—_ In a rush to regain control of his body, Malik became dizzy and fell over. When he opened his eyes to see where he landed, he was face to face with none other than the ashen skinned Bakura. Malik let out a scream and scrambled as far away as he possibly could. "You—he—I!" In panic, Malik started to talk to himself. "First of check for a pulse… yes… that's it…" Shaking, Malik pressed two fingers to the base of Bakura's neck. Then he noticed that it was not Bakura, but Ryou.

_Oh God, not Ryou!_ Ryou had been Malik's only real friend since he came to Domino. And his yami had killed him in a rage against Bakura.Malik's anguish was deterred when he felt a slight beating under his fingers. "He's alive!" Malik exclaimed in relief.

Acting quickly, Malik heaved Ryou on to his bed, and ran to get some ice.

Ryou's chocolate brown eyes flickered open: Where was he? He blinked to clear his blurred vision, but this only caused him to become dizzy. _Okay, just take a deep breath and try to sort this out._ He thought to himself. He inhaled slowly, coughed, hacked, and fell back on to the bed in pain. God, why did his throat hurt so much?! The white-haired teen decided it would be better if he just didn't move at all. But this was instantly disregarded when he heard the door click open.

"Oh you're awake," Malik said, sounding surprised. "You okay, Ryou?"

"Y-" but another coughing fit came over him, so all he could do was nod.

"Don't give me that shit. You can't talk! I guess my yami really did a number on you're body," Malik had to keep from smirking at the wide-eyed look on Ryou's face. "Bakura said something and it must have pushed his buttons or something. He went berserk and started to strangle him. I guess he past out and switched places with you," Malik explained. "I'm really sorry. I don't know why I didn't try to stop him. I kind of just let it happened."

Ryou shook his head as if to say "You're not to blame."

Malik chuckled lightly. "That's just like you, Ryou. You never see anyone to blame, and if you do, it's usually pointed at yourself. You have to lay off sometimes. Not everything is your fault. You can blame other people." He gave Ryou a weak smile.

What was this weird fluttery sensation Malik felt when Ryou smiled back? Surely he wasn't attracted to the white-haired boy. Malik made it a rule not to get involved with his mind-slaves or business associates. For doing so left messy results. But the less moral, part of his mind reminded him that _Bakura_ was his associate, not Ryou. Bingo- Houston, we have a loophole.

An almighty storm raged outside, so Malik forbid Ryou from leaving till it was over. But by ten o'clock, it didn't look like it was letting up at all. "I guess you'll have to spend the night," Malik shrugged.

Ryou had regained his voice by the use of some medications the servants had found, "Are you sure it's all right?"

"Of course. It doesn't bother me in the least… unless you're uncomfortable with it," Malik added reluctantly. He sure hoped Ryou wasn't uncomfortable around him.

Ryou glanced at Malik with a look of surprise, "What? No, why would I be uncomfortable with it?"

Malik thought for a minute and then replied. "I dunno… forget I said it, okay?" He heaved a sigh. "Well, I better get an extra blanket and pillow." The blonde brought a servant to them using his Millennium Rod. Ryou, use to magic that perverted human life and free will, voiced no objections to this.

After this task was complete, Malik scrounged around for some clothes for Ryou. "I suppose you don't want to sleep in those," Malik gestured to Ryou's current attire. "So here, you can use these." Malik tossed him a dark green Egyptian cotton shirt, and long black pants of the same material. "My sister insists on buying me useless birthday and Christmas gifts. She knows I just wear a pair of boxers. That shows you how dense Isis is," Malik laughed softly.

Ryou nodded, though he wasn't sure what he was nodding for. Suddenly a loud thunderclap startled them both. The lights flickered and went out. "Crap," Malik hit the light switch on and off, but the blackness remained. "Dammit!" he cursed again. "The powers out. We'll have to light candles or something." Of course, the "we" meant the mind slaves and servants.

Malik would not hear of Ryou sleeping on the floor. He, himself would, while Ryou took his bed. "You're my guest," Malik explained. "It's only fair that you should have my bed."

So Ryou lay there, completely awake listening to Malik's steady breathing; the blonde was already asleep. He contemplated a few things that needed sorting. Like… how did he feel towards Malik? He hadn't talked to Malik often enough to be a good friend, but… there was just something about him…

_Ryou!_ his yami snarled. _What the hell are you think about the bastard Malik for?!_

Ryou ignored his yami, and shut the mental link. He didn't care that he would pay for it later.

Bakura growled to himself. Who did Ryou think he was?! He couldn't just shut him off! And Malik! That two timing bastard was trying to get his hikari, and it was working! Ryou was meant to be his, not this rich ass blonde. Whatever Malik could give Ryou, so could he! And the white haired robber would make sure of that.

Ryou drifted out of his own thoughts and back into reality. He instantly realized that it was colder in the room and Malik's breathing had stopped. "Malik," Ryou called out softly. "Malik! Is everything alright?" There was no response. Only the ever-watchful eyes of night greeted him along with the thrashing of raindrops. Ryou sat up and crawled to the edge of the bed. "Malik! Hey! Are you there?" Ryou said louder.

"Ryou, there's no need to be so loud… you wouldn't want anyone to think there's something wrong in here…" a voice replied from somewhere in the shadows.

The pale skinned teen yelped and leaped back. He looked intently- fear filling his features- at the region the voice sounded from. The candlelight flashed over Yami Malik's face making him look even more sadistic and sinister than he ever had before. Ryou gulped. If he knew one thing… this was one dark side that you wouldn't want to be alone with.  
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A/N: Oooooo CLIFFY-ISH-NESS!!! And what have I done to the plot?! You thought I had it all nice and laid out so you could predict things, now I've gone and twisted it up! HA! Now who do you think Malik will end up with? Only time will tell…


	4. Fire

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Yuugiou. Now stop bugging me and read the update.  
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"Now, now… there's nothing to be afraid of," Yami Malik grinned mischievously. When he walked, he made no sound, Ryou noted. This was probably why so many had met their demise by him; no noise, a silent murderer. Yami Malik didn't even have to breathe if he wanted to.

"Please…" Ryou pleaded softly.

"Please what? 'Please don't hurt me'? Is that what you were going to say?" His eyes were alight with malicious intent. Yami Malik stopped, just beyond Ryou's line of vision. "Are you going to beg now?" Ryou felt a small billow of air and Yami Malik's voice now sounded from behind him. "Go on, beg for me."

Ryou was shaking slightly, he was extremely nervous. Who wouldn't be nervous? A spiteful yami who had quite an extensive murder recorded on him for the short amount of time he was in existence seemed to hate the white haired teen for some unknown reason. He wanted to call on his own yami for help, anyone for help, but he wouldn't. Why he wouldn't, he didn't know. But he stayed silent.

Yami Malik narrowed his eyes; he wasn't use to disobedience. "Answer me!" He yanked Ryou's hair back, causing the latter to cry out in pain. The hikari clawed franticly at his captor, but he was only caught in the grip of the yami's other hand. "Don't think to be so quick, little one," he growled softly in Ryou's ear and tugged harder. He whimpered as tears weld up in the corner of his chocolate brown eyes. "Now… while I have you here, I've got one thing to say. Stay away from my hikari." At that, Yami Malik carelessly threw Ryou down.

A sharp crack told Ryou that he had hit his head on something. He reached up and felt his hair sticky with his own blood and when he pulled his hand away, it was coated in red. Shuddering slightly at the sight, he curled up in the fetal positions and hoped to God that Yami Malik was done torturing him. Unfortunately, the spirit was relentless. "What are you doing cowering on the floor? Get up," He had such a demanding tone, Ryou had to obey. He hung his head- blood still pouring from his wound- so Yami Malik could not see that he was afraid. But Yami Malik was not even paying attention to him. He was gazing fixated at a candle as the flame on it's wick flitted back and forth in an unseen wind. "Fire; a sign of rebirth. Yet if it is a sign of rebirth, then why is it so feared? Why do we speak of the fires of Hell? Fire; it is as much a synonym as it is an antonym," His amethyst eyes darted a glance at Ryou. "Do you fear the fire?"

Ryou nervously replied, "I don't know."

Yami Malik smiled cruelly, "Would you like to find out?" Despite the fact the Ryou was franticly shaking his head no, Yami Malik still dragged the light side towards him. It was then that Ryou blacked out from blood loss.

When Ryou woke up, he discovered his head wound had stopped bleeding. Sighing in relief, he looked up only to be scared stiff: Yami Malik was sitting at the end of the bed staring at him hauntingly. "You're head wouldn't stop bleeding so I licked the blood away," he stated in a flat voice void of emotions.

Ryou started blankly at him before the dark side's words sunk in. His face contorted in disgust, but he refrained from commenting. He really needed a shower; his hair was now stiff in some places because of dried blood and saliva. Ryou hesitantly made his way towards the bathroom, and when Yami Malik didn't make any sudden movements, he dashed in and locked the door.

After he finished, he didn't want to put on his old clothes, so he decided to root around in Malik's wardrobe. Ryou poked his head out the door, and didn't see any sign of Yami Malik. But that didn't mean he wasn't lurking near by. Ryou took his chances. _I hope Malik doesn't mind_, Ryou thought as he pulled open a drawer. Sudden, something grazed his bareback lightly. Yami Malik had reappeared. His blood ran ice cold when Yami Malik spoke his sentence, "Your hair smells nice." The dark side inhaled deeply. "Just like my hikari's."

Ryou broke away from Yami Malik and took three quick strides across the room before he reached the wall. Where was the door? His gaze flitted around the room and spotted his escape behind the drunk-off-blood yami.

Yami Malik made a sudden move, and Ryou flinched away, but when he opened his eyes, Yami Malik hadn't strayed far from his position. He had gone to fetch his pocketknife. He flicked the blade open, and grazed it across his wrist. Red beaded at the self-inflected wound, and he began to lap up the blood. Ryou looked away, unable to stand the sight. You'd think with Bakura as a yami he'd be use to it by now, but it still sent shivers down his spine.

The yami smiled coldly as blood dripped from his canines. "Ryou," his voice a quiet death on Ryou's ears. "Don't be frightened," said the wolf to the lamb. It was then that Ryou realized he still had just a towel on. His only covering easily fell away when Yami Malik tugged on it, leaving Ryou bare and vulnerable. The blonde used a belt to bind Ryou's hands behind his back. "You want to know what the Fire is like?" Yami Malik hissed. "I'll show you."

Ryou felt like he was going to cry. Why did this always happen to him? What had he done to deserve all this trouble? He had never complained aloud before, always silent. But it never changed. And right now he was about to be raped by a dark spirit bent on destruction of the earth and it's inhabitants.

Malik watched from his mind's eye. For the first time in many years, Malik felt hurt. He knew that he had set himself up for a fall when he had given his yami a chance. And Ryou was just sitting there, waiting for the worst to come, it seemed. Why didn't he fight? Was Ryou that helpless? Or did he want what was coming? Malik just couldn't take the sight anymore. His fragile emotions were being torn right before his eyes. So he thrust Yami Malik's spirit out of their shared body.

Ryou didn't feel anything; it was like Yami Malik wasn't there anymore. He peeled an eye open to see that he _wasn't_ there anymore, Malik now stood were the yami once did, his violet eyes glittering with contempt. He quickly undid the restraining belt. "Here," Malik spat as he threw Ryou's clothes down to him; they were clean; one of the mind slaves must have washed them. "Now get out." There was no anger in his voice, no malice… just pure enraged deadly calm.

The white haired teen didn't need to be told twice. He dashed out the door, only pausing briefly to put on his clothes before he continued. It was still raining pretty heavily outside, but Ryou thought it would be better than being stuck inside with two psychopaths with violent mood swings.

Malik slummed against the door he knew he shouldn't be mad at Ryou. He knew better than to think that Ryou wanted to be raped by Yami Malik. Malik probably would have frozen too in his situation. Suddenly stress and fatigue grabbed hold of the blonde and he fell asleep against the door.

But sleep brought no peace for Malik. _I want_ _so much more than he could ever give; a life free of lies and meaningless relationships. I'll wait for it all to end. And for this aching in my heart to subside…_

While Malik went through another restless sleep, Yami Malik looked into his hikari's dreams, or rather, his memories. The Yami felt the distinct familiarity of hatred. He went to see whom it was direct towards and surprised it was to be intended for him. The events that had happened earlier that day flooded back into his memory.

Ryou! The white haired whelp! Yami Malik had been foolish. Blood was like a drug for him, and he knew it. Some how he had to make things right again. Somehow he would finish off his pale skinned rivals once and for all. Somehow he would kill the Bakuras.

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A/n: Finals and school are FINALLY over for the year. I personally like the part about fire waaaay up there at the beginning. I'm quite proud of that little like that spun off my head. I hope you people appreciated the sooner update, even if it is a little shorter than most. I'm drained and I wanted to get this posted. So thanks for reading, drop me a review! And for plot purposes, I made blood a drug/aphrodisiac for Yami Malik. Don't hurt me!!!


	5. Memories

Disclaimer: Yuugiou does not belong to be in any way, shape, or form.

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Malik was awakened when a servant tried to come in through the door he was leaning against. There was an almighty crack as wood connected with Malik's skull. "Itai!" He shot off the ground, startling the girl carrying a laundry basket into his room.

"Sir!" she groveled. "Please don't punish me, I didn't know you were there!" She picked up the clothes that had spilled and shuffled away. Cursing profoundly, Malik rubbed the back of his throbbing head. "Stupid bitch," he growled, throwing a nasty glare in the direction of his door.

He staggered around trying to steady himself and get his bearings. A little flash from the far left corner of his room caught his eye. "Yami!" he gasped, stumbling onto the floor. "Are you trying to kill me?!"

"Maybe," Yami Malik smirked. But he instantly regretted it when he saw panic grow behind his hikari's docile eyes. "Hikari…" he said sympathetically. "I don't mean to hurt you." Yami Malik sidled closer to his fallen hikari. _We're like two angels… both forsaken by God…_

Malik still did not feel like treating his yami nicely after what had happened yesterday. "Get away," Malik snarled, throwing a book at his yami. The book triggered the dark side's predatorily instincts. He dogged it and flung himself at his hikari who was trying to scramble away. Yami Malik pinned Malik on his stomach by straddling his waist and keeping his arms locked to his form. He leaned in close to his hikari's ear and whispered, "But I can't go away. Oh no… don't you remember?"

Malik gulped, "Remember what?" Yami Malik pushed Malik's shirt up in the back to reveal the taboo marks left there from so long ago. "Do you remember these?" The yami traced a lazy finger over the hieroglyphics carved there causing Malik to shudder. "Do you remember where they came from? Who gave them to you? Do you?" Malik whimpered and clawed at his steel gray carpet to try to get away. When Yami Malik didn't get an answer, he dug his claw like nails into the base of Malik's neck. The smaller blonde hissed in pain. "Yami! Stop… please… stop…" Yami Malik chuckled darkly to himself. Oh how long has he wanted his hikari to beg for him? He could not remember, but now…. "Stop? You want me to stop? I have you exactly where I want you, why would I stop now?"

"What?" Malik's breath caught in his throat. Surely, his yami wasn't going to—wasn't going to—he dare not finish that thought. A noise broke through the deadly silence— someone was coming in. Yami Malik fell upon the poor mind slave like a hawk. They had no right to disturb him, and so they had to pay. With a sickening snap, he broke the servant's neck. The body fell to the ground with a thud; Yami Malik had made another kill. With little effort the evil born spirit kicked the refuse out into the hallway. "Now… tell me, where were we hikari?" _You know you're mine. And when I fall, you will fall with me._ "These scars will always be here," Yami Malik said. "They will serve to medicate your fear of me. For I will never leave, not without you. Never without you. Always with you." And at that, Yami Malik disappeared back into his soul room, leaving Malik alone a frightened.

Malik wiped the fog off his bathroom mirror. A figure with wet blonde hair, cold amethyst eyes, a hard-set mouth, and damp tan skin stared back at him. He heaved a sigh: What had happened to him? What had caused him to change so much? He turned slightly and saw the scars that crisscrossed his back. They stood out brightly against his dark skin tone. Those; they had ruined his life and cursed him with that be damnable yami. He remembered the feeling too. The knife had blazed like Hell's fire on his skin. He had wanted to scream, to let all the pain out in one heart tearing noise. But he couldn't- there had been a vinegar soaked cloth fitted in his mouth to prevent such a thing. But this didn't stop him from trying. He tried yelling out, only to have the foul tasting liquid pour down his throat. So he cried out inside; his light—his innocence—had been stolen from him in those few fleeting moments of gore. He cried out to the last remaining thing; the darkness. That was his only comfort to look forward to on those cold desert nights.

Malik remembered growing weak as he lost large amounts of blood. He remembered the red splatters on the stone and sand floor. Then he remembered the shadows. His pain and hatred feeding them, letting them grow in size—enough to consume him. So he let the shadows take him. They devoured his soul, and tore it apart, leaving two halves; half a soul to eternally stay in the dark, and the other to live out the days in the light. This is what separated Malik and his yami from the others. Yami Malik was the physical and spiritual form of hatred, suffering, and evil. Malik, though he appeared similar to his yami, was actually the form of innocence.

Malik shook his head flinging droplets of water everywhere. What was done was done. What's past is past. He needed to think about more probable things at the moment. He pulled the towel off his half dried hair and walked into his conjoined room. There he took up his favorite spot to think; his low set queen-sized bed. Flopping down on the deep crimson comforter, his thoughts swirled in a furious vortex. What was he to do? His world seemed to be caving in around him. It was being torn apart like an angry wild cat being let loose in a palace. Suddenly his thoughts trailed off and his eyelids drooped….

It was seven thirty in the evening when Malik awoke from his well-deserved slumber. He was clinging to the top sheet like a baby would do to its mother. Blushing, although he was positive no one had seen him, the teenager scrambled out of bed. He looked out his window and spied a full moon surrounded by shimmering dots of light. When was the last time he had stopped to look at the stars? He remembered the time when he was never allowed to gaze upon the sky, whether it be night or day. He was glad those days were gone. He had an idea. Grabbing a light jacket from his closet, he walked out of his room. When a servant approached to see what he needed, Malik waved a hand and said, "Don't worry, I'm just going for a walk."

Malik went to the park. Of course it was closed at this hour, so he simply hopped the fence. He knew no one else would be there so he could reminiscent alone, though a small part of him wished there was someone else at his side. The blonde trudged down the path that led to the very center of the park, and subconsciously his mind began to ramble. And he lost himself to thought.

Ryou too, was out this night in the park. He always came to look at the stars. Somehow, they gave him comfort from the turbulent world around him. He paused on the path he was on when he heard a familiar voice echoing through the twilight.

"I just don't know. Gives me a major headache. But do I need him? No… I don't think so…"

Was that Malik? Ryou peered around the corner and sure enough there was the blonde sitting on the bench he always sat on. What was the pale skin teen to do? Was Malik still fuming about yesterday? Well there was really only one way to find out… Taking a deep breath, Ryou stepped towards the blonde.

Malik jumped- there wasn't suppose to be anyone here! "Ryou!" he gasped. So he had nothing to worry, Ryou was still probably afraid of him after what had happened. But then why would he come out to talk? Unless… unless he was testing Malik to see if the Egyptian was still angry. "What brings you out here?"

Ryou nodded up, signaling to the stars. "The city light obstruct them too much… I need to come here to witness their beauty." Ryou came and sat down next to the other. "See there?" Ryou pointed a pale finger towards a cluster of stars. "That's the constellation of Draco the dragon. And there's Capricorn, the goat. He's a sign of the Greek Zodiac." Malik gazed at the sky with a furrowed brow. "I don't see anything but dots." Ryou sighed lightly, "Here let me show you." He took Malik's hand and held it up and began to trace in the air. "Do you see them now?" Malik nodded eagerly.

"You know, I never really looked that closely at the stars before. To me, they were just there," Malik, stated casually. "And before… I never even knew what stars were."

Ryou saw a sadness behind those violet eyes he had never seen before, "That's right. You live in catacombs underground and weren't allowed on the surface." Malik nodded. "Well it's all different now, you should be glad." Suddenly he got an idea. "Hey I know! I can teach you all the constellations that I know, it would take awhile though, because as the earth moves, the stars change. Only a few stay in the same position, those are the circumpolar ones, mind you…" And so Ryou began to ramble on while Malik sat there and listened. Malik didn't really absorb anything he was saying—he was too enraptured by the other, noticing details previously looked over.

"How do you know this all?" Malik questioned. Ryou blushed slightly. "My dad told it me when I was little. That was before he started going on all of his explorations and such like. Before he brought this thing home," he jingled the Millennium Ring that hung around his neck. "But what am I going to do about him? He's been with me so long I've learned how to deal with his constant thieving and such." It took a few moments for Malik to realize that he was talking about Bakura.

"Dark sides can be a pain, especially with one like mine," Malik groaned.

"Oh, I'm sure yours isn't as bad as he makes out to be. There's a little good in everyone," Ryou stated.

Malik laughed, "That what I like so much about you, Ryou." Malik stretched an arm over on Ryou's shoulder.

"Huh?" Ryou suddenly was acutely aware of the how close Malik seemed to be sitting. As he tried to scoot away, he fell over on the bench, pulling Malik with him when he grabbed onto the blonde's sleeve.

"Well, isn't this a fun position?" Malik commented with a smirk. Ryou's blush deepened to vivid red when he saw how they had fallen. It happened in a flash; Malik's lips brushed Ryou's slightly before the sensation- and Malik- had vanished. Ryou was left alone on the park bench, just like so many nights before this one.

Malik walked home with a smug look on his face. He had been waiting for a moment like that. Apparently someone still was watching out for him above. His past had been bad. Hopefully his future had more light shining on it.

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A/N: THERE!! As a gift for the holidays, I left you on a happy note with a little fluff! To me, this chapter seemed a little funky, but I'm still liking it. Happy Holidays to all!


	6. Parted

Disclaimer: I don't want to write one right now, go back to the last chapter for one.

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Yami Malik couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. Malik. His Malik. His hikari. Had just kissed Ryou. That stupid whore of the Ring's light side. His world came crashing down like a stick house in a hurricane. His hikari had been snatched from him… why was he just standing here? Not. Doing. Anything. When this thought struck him, the rubble of his world suddenly rebuilt itself bigger and stronger. _I'm sick of wasting my time on him. He feels nothing for me, why didn't I realize that before? If I can't have him, then no one will. _He growled. Unbeknownst to Malik, he appeared behind him. He grabbed his hikari in a headlock "Yami!" Malik gasped. "What are you doing?!"

In a very whispery voice, he proclaimed, "Do you want to know my true purpose?" He leaned in closer to him. "In time you will find out for yourself. In time you will want to kill me. But until then, my hatred and love for you grow. These old feelings are taking over, and I can't make them go away. They are controlling my every thought—every movement. Love and hate. Quite an oxymoron, if I do say so myself." Malik was nervous there in the evil's grasp. Yami Malik seemed to be trailing his thoughts again. "I'm always thinking about you. Never ending. You consume me, and I can't have that."

"Get off of me," Malik snarled. "That's not my problem. I never asked for you. I never asked for any of these. Just leave me the fuck alone!" He wasn't putting up with this anymore. His hurtful, hateful yami had gone too far for him to bear. He bit down on Yami Malik's arm, causing the other to yelp in surprise rather than pain. Before then, Malik had never lashed out against him. "Forget me, like I'm going to forget you, yami. It's over. I no longer need you to protect me." Malik's eyes were cold and hard. Yami Malik saw he was serious; this was no joke. "Leave. Take all of your jealousy and abhorrence, and leave. Just give me back what's mine and go." And Malik turned and left.

Suddenly it was like someone wrenched a knife through their minds. In a mighty outcry, Yami Malik dropped to the ground clutching his head. Malik steady himself on a nearby wall as his head throbbed painfully. What the hell was going on? Then at the same time it hit them- they were being separated from each other. Unfortunately, because they circumstance was not like others, it did not go completely right. _It feels like something has been taken from me,_ Malik gasped. He was exhausted though he didn't know why. But that didn't stop him. He continued to walk away from his old life. Though he didn't realize it—he was now only a half. For every light needs a darkness…

The Ishtar household wasn't the only place where turbulence was being felt between yami and hikari; the Bakuras were in a fit too. "Ryou, I can't believe you! Getting involved with a person like Malik. His yami will destroy you if you're not careful," Bakura was pacing back and forth while Ryou sat on the couch.

"Oh don't be such a prick, Bakura," Ryou commented, slightly annoyed. Bakura was doing it again; trying to control his life. There was a point in his life, when Ryou would have silently complied, but it had changed recently. The white haired teenager was still a bit intimidated by the spirit of the ring, but not so much as to be afraid of him twenty four seven. "I can do what I like, you're not the almighty royal dictator of my life." Bakura stared menacingly at Ryou, but Ryou stared right back and Bakura was the one to turn away.

"What's happened to you?" Ryou could hear a trace of sadness in Bakura's voice, and Ryou felt a twinge of remorse. "You were never like this. What happened to my hikari?" Ryou sighed. "Things happen, Bakura. People change." Bakura pulled an annoyed look on to his face, "But I don't want you to change."

Ryou was getting a little aggravated. He didn't have to be the tomb robber's perfect picture of innocence. "Well I did so you're going to have to live with it, or not live with me." Ryou started to walk to his room, but Bakura grabbed his arm. "Wait, where do you think you're going?"

His chocolate brown eyes stared into his burnt red ones. "A walk."

"But it's three in the morning!"

"So?"

"I won't let you."

"Try and stop me." But Bakura didn't. He let Ryou go out the door without even bugging him to put something on besides his pajamas. The white haired teen's hair instantly stood on end once he stepped outside. It was bitter cold, being so early in the morning, but he wasn't about to go back and get something else. Instead he plodded his way towards Malik house. Ryou fumed slightly. Why did yamis have to be so damn possessive of their light sides? All the time, they felt the need to point out who belonged to who. They were all human beings, not property.

When he reached the massive house that belonged to Malik, he knocked on the door and was surprised when Malik answered the door—usually a servant would. He instantly saw that the blonde looked tried and worn out. "Malik, did I wake you?" Though he could tell that Malik hadn't slept at all that night.

"No… no… something—something happened," his voice sounded hollow and dead, as if someone had sucked the life out of him.

"Was it your yami?" Ryou asked instantly. Malik nodded soberly. "What'd he do to you? He shouldn't hurt you. They're there to protect us. Where is he now?" But then Malik began to shake his head and Ryou didn't understand.

"He didn't hurt me… And he's not here. He's gone. Gone forever, and he's never coming back." Ryou still didn't understand. How could a yami be gone? Malik saw his confused look and explained. "Our souls have been separated." Ryou gaped at him. How could their souls be separated? That was impossible… wasn't it? Ryou didn't know, but this was defiantly a serious matter. The separation had taken it's toll on the Egyptian, and it didn't look like recovery was in the future.

Yami Malik watched from the gloom. He had to stay close to his once hikari otherwise he would begin to fade away more rapidly then he already was. He had quickly realized that he was only a half now, and need the other to survive. But he clearly saw that Malik didn't need him, he only needed that platinum haired boy who was helping him to his room. "I'll never be the same without you, hikari... I'll fade away into the shadows and the darkness in my veins will swallow me alive."

Ryou and Malik trudged with slowed progress to his chambers. "Why do you have such a big house for one person?" Ryou questioned. He'd always wondered, but never asked before.

"I guess it's because I like solitude. When you have a big house, you can barely tell when there's someone else there, and there's always somewhere you could go and not be bothered," Malik explained wearily. Ryou understood this. Malik had been alone—or at least mentally alone—most of his life.

Ryou had another question he'd been meaning to ask. He knew he shouldn't… Yami Malik had been a dark side of the worst kind. But it would nag him for all eternity if he didn't. "Malik… tell me. Did Yami Malik ever show you any kindness… did he ever protect you or make you feel wanted?"

Malik did respond right away. That was a fairly good question. What had been his relationship with his yami? He once said that even though his yami confessed his feeling secretly to Malik in the night, the dark side was still incapable of the emotion called love. But was he just saying that to convince himself to ignore his own feelings? "He's never called me Malik… it's always hikari. Never Malik." This didn't answer the question… or did it? Bakura and Ryou had referred to each other by name plenty of times. Was it even possible not to? "But I never called him Yami Malik…always yami." Malik wasn't even aware of what he was saying anymore. He was just talking. "I… we… both caused each other some sort of pain. But we'd never tell each other. We never told anything to each other. Not because we didn't trust one another, but because we were afraid. Well, at least I was afraid. I was afraid that I might have to admit something about myself that I didn't want to. I might have to admit… that… I cared about him." Malik felt the tell tale signs of stinging tears of sadness in his eyes. Why was he crying? He _didn't_ care about his yami. His yami deserved to burn in hell for eternities to come… didn't he? An ache grew in his heart. He yearned for his yami to return to him. He wanted him back. Wait, what was he saying? Malik was glad to be rid of that bastard. Yami Malik was no better than his father had been! Why was he saying that? Yami Malik had shown compassion to his light side! Why was he defending and denying? Why was this battle inside him fighting? "Ryou… you must be tired go home. I can get to my room by myself." Ryou hesitated. As much as he wanted to stay and help his friend out, Ryou knew Malik need some time alone. So with silent obedience, Ryou turned and left, while Malik wobbled to his bedroom.

He flopped on his bed, like so many times he had before that. Malik felt empty inside. And had a terrible lonely feeling in his heart.

Yami Malik subsequently stepped towards his hikari and placed a translucent hand on Malik's chest. "You—!" Malik jolted in surprise. Malik was about to yell and scream at him, but he saw his fading spiritual form. It had never been like that before.

"Hikari… I'm vanishing now. Soon I'll leave this world for good and you will be nothing but an empty shell of your former self. I'll return to the darkness where I had laid rest years before I was manifested in you. So maybe now you'll finally know… sometimes I am helpless and alone. I need you… Malik…" And with that final note of a song come to an end, the spirit whispered away to the wind.

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A/N: So you thought the last chapter was the end? Hardly. And this isn't it either. I've got lots planned for this!! I know this was a bit angsty, and angst and romance go hand in hand. Don't worry though, the horror and creepiness will return!!! Questions are always welcomed! I love to answer questions, so submit anything you seemed confused on and I'll set it all straight! Till next time…


	7. Trying

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO. Any and all questions that were asked of me will be answered at the end of this chapter.

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Blackness. That's all I see. Blackness and emptiness. It's like I'm floating in a place between life and death, reality and fantasy, existence and oblivion. I'm stuck somewhere where I'm all alone except for the horrors that hide deep within the shadows. I am a darkness who's got no light to save, a darkness who's got no light to protect, a darkness who longs for the warmth of the light one last time before it's cast away into the depths of Hell forever…

It had been three days since the separation of their souls, and Malik was miserable. He thought that'd his life would be better without his twisted yami around, but he was wrong. He hadn't been able to leave his house. The blonde was drained and pissy, snapping at anyone who came near, including Ryou. Ryou had visited his friend several times over those torturing days, but it was like talking to a brick wall. The Egyptian completely ignored the other. The blonde had barely slept at all those days either— tossing and turning every which way. He felt helpless without his other half. And he would never shake his last words… _I need you… Malik. Malik… Malik…_ His own name repeated itself over and over in his mind. It was torturous. He hadn't been 'hikari' or anything else. He had been 'Malik'. Malik. It was like his heart had been wrenched open at that moment, and it would never close until Yami Malik returned. How could his own name cause him so much torment?

Malik was sitting at the desk in his room, doing nothing but thinking. He closed his eyes and laid his head down on his desk. Underneath his darkened violet orbs, he saw hazy visions of a scarab spreading its wings. Then there was an ankh—the symbol of eternal life. Hieroglyphs spiraled downward telling of something that had come to pass thousands of years ago. And, finally, Malik saw the distorted images of three Egyptian gods. The blonde shot up, wide-awake. No these weren't visions; these were the scars that decorated his back. For six years they've been apart of him. Six years—the same amount of time as Yami Malik. This was how he was going to get his yami to return to him.

He instantly stood up and walked franticly around like he had just been shot full of caffeine. A knife. He needed a knife. A dagger to be more specific. He pulled his drawers apart, throwing random items of clothing into the air. Finally after destroying a seventh drawer, he found what he'd been looking for. There in the far corner near the back was a fairly large blade with leather-covered handle. Perfect. He grabbed the phone that was on his nightstand. Malik couldn't do this alone, and there was really only one person he knew he could trust. He called Ryou; unaware that it was a school day and Ryou was learning about meiosis till his brain rotted away.

Ryou's entire Biology Honors class stared at him as a polyphonic version of "Heart of Sword" emitted from his backpack. Blushing bright crimson, he grabbed the cursed thing and ran to the boys' bathroom without a word. Who was calling him in the middle of school?! It wasn't his father- he was off on some expedition like always. It couldn't be any of his friends- they were all in school, like him. So it could only be one person… "Malik! Don't you know I'm in school?" Ryou whispered harshly into the small Nokia phone.

"Your are?" Malik replied stupidly. "I don't care. This is more important. I need you to come over here. Now." But before Ryou could ask for exactly what, Malik had already hung up. Ryou growled in frustration and nearly chucked his phone out the window- then he remembered how much the stupid thing had cost him. The semi-albino boy growled and stalked back into the classroom; oblivious that everyone was fixated on him and his incessant muttering.

"Mr. Bakura," his teacher said, impatiently tapping her high-heeled foot. "Would you mind explaining who that phone call was from before you hand over—" The loud obnoxious ringing of the bell had saved Ryou this time. The rest of the teacher's words were drowned out by the stamped of students, Ryou included in them. He had reached the front door of freedom and was out in the cool autumn air within minutes. It was only lunch break, but he had to see what Malik was going on about. Malik hadn't sounded that alert in days, so something was definitely up. As much as he detested skipping school, he couldn't help it. _Today is an emergency_, he tried to reassure himself. _Oh who the hell am I kidding?_ But he couldn't do anything about it now; he was already running as fast as he could towards the lavish house where his Egyptian friend lived. He didn't knock or anything, the servants all knew him, and Malik had given him special permission.

He walked to Malik's room, only to stop dead in the door way— the blonde had no shirt on, and Ryou was positive there wasn't anything on under the cream colored sheet he had tied around his waist. Ryou couldn't see his eyes because Malik had his head down, causing his platinum blonde locks to tumble downward. Ryou glanced at something glinting in the light; it was a blade Malik was clutching tightly. "Malik… what are you doing? Why are you dressed like that? Malik? Malik? Answer me!" Slowly, Malik stepped towards him. He looked up and Ryou saw his gaunt expression.

"You have to help me," Malik pleaded. "I need my yami back." He pressed the hilt of the dagger into Ryou's pale palm.

The white haired one gulped. "W-what do you want me to do? Malik, are you sure this is what you want? I mean, think of the things he's done to you." He glanced nervously at the dagger in his hand.

"I want you to do what my father did ten years ago to me. I want you to cut into my scars." What little color Ryou had, disappeared. He could barely stand the sight of his own blood without feeling queasy. "Can you do that Ryou?" Ryou shook his head franticly. It didn't matter how much he thought he liked Malik, he simply could not do this. But the look of desperation in those amethyst gems Malik had for eyes began to change his way of thought.

"Malik," he reasoned, "what you're talking about is insane. And how do you know it'll bring Yami Malik back?"

"It's how he and I came to be one, so it can work again." Ryou saw that the Egyptian was being completely irrational. "It's got to work! Ryou… you don't understand, I don't just need my yami… I want him. I've realized that now. Ryou, please, you're the only one I can trust on this."

Malik's words at struck a cord in Ryou's mind. _I should have guessed. Malik barely stays interested in something for a long while, I was just the obsession of the moment._ Ryou dropped the knife and backed away towards the door. He felt the sting of tears growing in the depths of his chocolate brown eyes. "Where are you going?" Malik croaked. Ryou shook his head slowly, still walking backwards toward the door. "Ryou? Ryou you have to help me!" But the white haired boy didn't hear—he tore out of the room at top speed.

"Oh fuck… what did I say now?" Malik mumbled to himself as he roughly grabbed clothes and shoved himself into them. He scrambled as quickly as he could in the direction that Ryou had run. After running for a few minutes, Malik realized that his friend had gone in the direction _opposite_ of the door. Ryou had been so distraught; he had gone deeper into Malik's mansion.

Everything was a blur to him. He had no idea where he was, or where he was going. He just needed to run, run as far as possible. Sure, he was running away from his fears and problems, but what would you do if you thought the one you loved was using you? Run… run… running… running… can't stop, don't stop…

With a faint gasp, Ryou hit the floor, unconscious. He had been so panicked and nervous, he had forgotten to breathe. It was Bakura's turn. "Oh God, Ryou are you alright?" Malik called out as he happened upon the fallen body.

"I am not Ryou, you bastard. Get it right." Bakura spun around and charged at the blonde. Malik was so taken by shock that he didn't think to move. The fast moving mass of white and blue collided headlong with the other male, taking them both to the carpet. It was there that Bakura began to pound the living daylight out of the other hikari. "Sick twisted freak!" Bakura seethed out between punches. "What did you do to my Ryou? He's like someone electrocuted him, all jittery and twitchy."

"I wasn't aware that Ryou _belonged_ to you," Malik sputtered. He knew he could call for help, but that wouldn't prove anything to Bakura. And besides, Malik had gone through worse; he could take a few little love taps like this. The teenager kneed the spirit in the gut and threw him off, before he pounced to the attack. "Now who's on the top of the food chain, so to speak?" Malik smirked as he pinned Bakura down.

"Get off of me you man whore," Bakura decided to use a little of the colorful language he had learned from television. He struggled underneath Malik but to no avail.

"If I'm such a man whore, then I would do this," Malik leaned down and pressed his lips to Bakura's. "But I'm not a man whore. Now get the fuck out of my house before I make you get out." He picked up the robber by his collar and tossed him a couple inches across the floor.

"You are really messed up in your head, you know that? Lay another finger on my light and you'll no longer posses the hand that finger was attached to," Bakura said as he straightened out his shirt and faded away into the shadows.

Malik made a face after he was sure Bakura was good and gone. "Might have to wash my mouth out with turpentine just to get rid of the taste," he chuckled weakly to himself. "I guess it was the only way to make him think I've gone totally nuts, otherwise he might of never left." Black dots danced across his vision. "Now… lets see what we can do."

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A/N: Whew! I thought I'd never finish. There seems to be odd little twists of humor thrown into this chapter. Er yeah, Q and A time!!

**Suna-chan:** Yes, Yami Malik's red drug will return but when, I shall not say. And as for whether this story WILL continue to be Yami Malik X Malik based fic… all I can say is that it's a pretty good "yes" but it's subject to change without reason. And I LOVE long reviews, as long as they some how pertain to my story… otherwise… don't waste my time. ((that last part is kind of a note to all of you))

Questions still welcomed!


	8. Bleeding

A/N: Yuugiou is © by someone who is not me, but the idea of this fiction is mine.

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Malik positioned himself so his back was facing the full-length mirror in his bedroom. Gripping the knife tightly, he began to etch the blade's tip over the intricate wings of the scarab that was splayed across his shoulder blades. Blood beaded then spilled over the small cuts he was making. It stung more than in hurt and Malik winced as he continued the long tedious process.

After a half an hour, his back was coated with his own lifeline and he was only half done. _I don't know if I can make it… I'm already starting to see spots._ Malik's breath was harsh and labored. But he had to finish; otherwise, he would die with half a soul. During a period of this hazy reality, blood slipped down the dagger hilt, causing the Egyptian to loosen his grip on it and slice deeper into his skin than intended. Malik cried out and dropped his tool. He took a sharp inhale of breathe before he reached a shaky hand down to retrieve the knife. Nothing was spared the wrath of his blood—there were great stains surrounding the floor where he was standing, and more dripped as he shifted. Even the tips of his slivery blonde were dyed crimson.

_Y… Ya… yami…come back to me…_ Malik thought as he finished off his last bit of self-mutilation. That was it; his body couldn't take any more anyways. He dropped the knife and staggered to the bathroom, marking everything red. Malik threw him self at the ceramic basin of his toilet and vomited the contents of his stomach up, then after that, he continued to dry heave for fifteen minutes before he was able to stop himself. Slowly, the Egyptian lifted himself up and pulled himself over to the sink. Malik gracelessly splashed water on his face before he peered at himself in the mirror; dried and wet splotches of blood were smeared across his features, water dripped from his bangs, he had heavy dark bags under his violet eyes, which were dull and inattentive. He was barely more than a walking corpse. And at that thought he succumbed to weariness and fell to the bathroom floor.

Yami Malik's spirit was floating aimlessly around the never-ending darkness when a familiar voice struck out like a thunderbolt. It was his hikari, calling to him. The spirit leapt forward, but was jerked back suddenly. He twisted around and saw black sinister claws pulling him further into the shadows. "Let me free!" he protested.

"We are sorry," the things hissed in low voices, "that is not allowed."

Yami Malik let out a menacing growl. "I don't care if it's allowed or not," he snarled, trying to wrench away, "my hikari needs me and I'm going to him!"

"You have been rejected by the one you were bound to and sent back to us," they hissed, digging their black claws into his arm. He ignored the flash of pain that shot up his body. He tried tugging away again—at the moment, he didn't care if he ripped his arm clear off, he just had to get back to Malik, whatever the cost.

"I'll kill you all if you don't release me!" Yami Malik screamed in a frenzy. He was now thrashing around in wild desperation. The creatures only held him tighter. "Do you hear me? I swear to the Devil himself I'll kill every single one of you. You'll all die at my hands."

"We cannot be killed, don't you remember? Not to long ago, you were a shadow yourself… a violent, malicious, evil shadow—bent on causing pain and suffering to others," they said in unison. "You were sent away, in hopes to lessen the damage you caused. But it was soon realized that if you were contained, you caused greater individual damage. We have been awaiting your return ever since."

"But you must let me go back! He wants me to return! Can't you hear him? His voice is ringing all around us!" Yami Malik cried.

"We hear nothing," they said simply, "we are nothing, yet we are everything."

"Who are you? What are you? What right do you have to deny me Malik?" Yami Malik questioned accusingly.

"Is your memory that faulty? Can you not remember anything before him? We are the shadows, as are you. We are what we are, as are you. There are no laws here, we are governed only by the rules we choose to follow, as do you." One shadow told him harshly. "If you are that determined to return to the one you love, the one you hate, the one who hates you, the one who loves you. Then be it. We will no longer restrain you." And they let him free of their iron grasp. "But remember," they called out to him as he began to depart, "we will always be here, waiting to steal you back…"

Yami Malik found his hikari collapsed in the master bathroom. He eyed Malik's still oozing back with interest. _So this is what he had been carrying on about_, he mused, _the fool._ The tantalizing smell of fresh blood was already skewing the dark side's senses. As he edged closer to the fallen blonde, the animal instincts gripped at Yami Malik's weak mindset. Like illicit silver flames, the urges licked at his sanity. His body twitched him downward, as he grabbed a towel off the marble covered bathroom counter. Malik began to stir as the yami systematically bound Malik's hand behind his back with the towel.

"Yami? What are you doing?" Malik muttered, not even realizing what he was saying or whom he was talking to.

"I'm getting payment from your banishment of me…" Yami Malik said with an evil Cheshire cat grin. He ran his tongue up and down the tan slashed back of his hikari, lapping up all the blood left. Malik involuntarily shuddered at this motion and snapped back into reality.

"Yami!" he exclaimed. He struggled, but was too weak to resist the strength of his dark side. He knew Yami Malik would go all the way this time—not stopping, no stalling. Out of all the things that were surfacing and bubbling around in his mind, how his yami had returned was the least prominent. The hikari was more worried about his virgin body and the wild beast that was his yami.

As Yami Malik sucked the blood out of Malik's wounds, the battered light side let loose a suppressed moan. Yami Malik flicked his tongue over a particularly gapping sore then drew away, licking the remaining traces off his lips. He added devilishly, "You like that, don't you?" Malik whimpered, he couldn't answer that question without his voice betraying him. But his sado-masochistic other had already finished with the blood and had proceeded to slip a hand under the sheer terry cloth towel Malik had fastened around his waist. The untouched teenager stiffened as he felt Yami Malik trail up his inner thigh. Clenching his teeth, the blond prepared for the worst. But instead of continuing with his own vulgar pleasures, as one would assume, he simply yanked his hikari's last bit of protection off. Malik sobbed silently in his mind—it was all over now.

Once again, Yami Malik opposed Malik's train of thought. The dark side flipped Malik on to his back—splattering stray drips of blood on the cabinet doors—and bared his hikari to the world.

Yami Malik stared at the helpless figure in front of him. Malik's face was flushed and his eyes slightly closed—as if he was in pain or ecstasy. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his hair was damp and dyed with blood. Malik's arms were now above his head, still shackled together. When Yami Malik ran a finger down his hikari's nicely toned chest, the blonde took a sharp breath and arched his back towards his tormentor. Yami Malik slipped and arm under Malik's raised back and brought the light side unbearably close to him. "There is no way out this time, my sweet."

"Yami, yami, be reasonable!" But his efforts were in vain. Nothing could reach Yami Malik's twisted logic now. The savage light that burned behind eyes that mirrored his own proved this. It was the beginning of the end.

Hours later Malik's bedside phone rang annoyingly in his ear. Listlessly, he picked up the receiver. "Hello? Malik, are you there?" a voice crackled from the other end. When the blonde didn't respond, Ryou continued. "Well I just called to make sure you were all right and you didn't try anything stupid. I shouldn't of left. You weren't in a right state. Malik? I'm worried, so I'm coming over later to check on you. I hope you're still alive when I get there…" and then the line went dead.

Malik let the phone roll out of his hand. His brain didn't really absorb what had just been said to him, he was lost in recollection. Today was the farthest Yami Malik had ever gone, but right before he had committed the horrendous act, he had suddenly recanted and drew himself into his old place, next to Malik's mind and soul. It was all very mind boggling to the sixteen year old hikari. Right now, he didn't know what to think anymore.

The same went for his mentally disturbed other half. Yami Malik didn't know what had stopped him. But something had drawn him away from his frightened light. At the moment though confusion was pushed to the farthest reaches of his mind by sheer jealousy. That white haired albino freak and his bastard yami were coming over to comfort Malik. _Like hell I'll let them_, he snarled to himself.

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A/N: Okay, I planned on making this longer, but this seemed like a good place to end for right now. Besides I can't think of what else to add, and I want to get this posted before I decide that this chapter sucks and erase it all.


	9. Nightmare

A/N: Do I own Yuugiou? Let me count the ways I don't.

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Ryou knew the scene in the bedroom would haunt him for weeks to come. Blood smeared the walls like some sort of sick twisted mural. The smell of it mingled with the stench of vomit to create the most nauseating scent ever. But the sight of his friend's mangled body topped the charts. Franticly, his pale fingers reached for the pulse point, and he relaxed a bit when he felt the faint beating signs of life under his fingers. Still… a lot of blood had been lost. Ryou pondered the fact if he should call the hospital. He hesitantly started for the phone, but a tan arm reached out. "Don't." Malik sat up, wincing; the blood on his back had partially dried to the sheets, and he had reopened his wounds when he moved. "I'll be fine, just help me bandage my back, would you?" His smile was weak, and slightly dazed. The white hair boy observed how Malik's violet eyes were glazed over and cloudy.

Without thinking twice, Ryou strode into the bathroom to gather supplies. The view he faced in there was even worse off than the bedroom. And the smell had strengthened. Holding back his gag reflex, he found a bucket in the cabinet and filled it with cool water and threw a washcloth in it so he could clean the blood off Malik. He scrounged around to dig up the other necessities: gauze, medical tape, disinfectant, Neosporin, a towel, and even a brush for Malik's platinum blonde locks. When he dragged all this out, he motioned for his friend to sit on the floor. Wearily, the Egyptian got up, causing the sheet he had loosely wrapped around his waist to slip downward. Ryou blushed ferociously, but Malik was too out of it to notice anything. He sat down and Ryou crouched behind him. "This might sting a little while I clean, but I have other stuff here that will hurt even more," he offered comfortingly to his battered friend as he wrung out the sodden washcloth. Patting it gently across the abused tan back, it immediately began to soak up blood. Malik twitched slightly as the dried blood was cleaned off, leaving more blood to seep out.

"Ryou, I think you'll cause me to die of blood loss before you finish." The younger teen almost sighed in relief; at least Malik still had his sense of humor.

"It's a miracle that you haven't died of blood loss yet. Why did you slice you scars up to begin with?" Ryou questioned.

"I thought I had told you, it was to get my yami back." Ryou paused, silently torn between wanting to know whether he was successful and not believing what he had said. How could Malik _want_ his yami back? The blonde's spiky haired dark side was overly possessive, violent, hurtful, and masochistic. He was like a stalker boyfriend gone horribly wrong.

He threw the soiled washcloth into the now murky water and pulled out the tubes of disinfectant and Neosporin. Ryou began to slather the cool cream on to Malik's tan back, causing his friend to cringe. "Did you though? Get him back I mean."

Malik averted his eyes downward, and reluctantly answered his question, "Well, yes I did." Ryou's breathe caught in his throat. Yami Malik _was_ back, so he would have to step lightly around Malik. His unpredictable dark side could show up unawares and attempt to finish one of the many violating tasks he had started on Ryou. "But…" his blonde friend trailed off, unable to will himself to say more. Ryou didn't need to know what had transpired in the bathroom only a few short hours ago.

All fear placed in his head by the mention of Yami Malik was erased and replaced with shining concern for his friend. "But what? Did he do something to you?" Ryou asked.

Malik shook his head, "It was nothing, Ryou. Forget I said it." But this did not deter the pale skinned teenager's apprehensive look. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, I'll be fine. Everything will be fine." He gave Ryou the most genuine warm smile he could muster and a tint of red rose to Ryou's face. "Now, how about you finish up with my back? I think I've held you in this dismal place I call a home long enough."

"I don't mind," Ryou stammered as he began to put the bandages around the slowly oozing cuts.

_I could have done that for you._ Malik stiffened as the cold familiar voice sounded in his mind. _All you had to do was ask, and I could have done the exact same thing he's doing. But of course you ran to him…. Why him? Couldn't it be someone else?_ Malik could detect the small hint of venomous envy in his yami's voice.

_Please don't start, Yami._ Malik pleaded uselessly. _I don't want to get rid of you again._ His dark side sent back no reply. Malik could only pray to the gods that he wasn't plotting anything.

Ryou on the oblivious side of all this finished off the bandages and knotted the two ends together. "There, all better. One of your servants should change these everyday, and put more of these creams on the scars. It will help them to heal quickly." He paused before he added, "If you go out in public you might want to wear something else besides your usually shirts."

"And why's that?" Malik snorted.

"Because your shirts reveal too much, and all these bandages might raise some questioning eyebrows," Ryou explained patiently. As he walked towards the door he commented, "I'll tell one of your helpers about your bandages."

Malik let his gaze fall downcast before he spoke up, "Ryou, would it be too much for me to ask you to change them? I'd feel more… comfortable with you doing it." The white haired teenager blinked in stupefied glory. Hastily Malik added, "I mean, if you don't want to, it's alright. I understand." Ryou said naught a word as he walked out, as he pretended to ignore Malik's request. _Well that was sobering._ Malik thought somberly. He had just been brushed off, and for one of the only times in his life, he did nothing about it. Despite a slow bubbling resentment growing in him, Malik shoved it down as far as it would go. He would not hurt Ryou with his violent temper. It was his choice to help or not to help Malik, and even if the blonde wanted it, there was nothing he could do.

Malik splattered water all over the bathroom counter and mirror as he dunked his head into the sink. After he rinsed out the blood and washed his face did he then survey the damage he had done to the two rooms. _I really did a number on them, didn't I? _He thought with a hint of dark humor. Walking over to the monitor by the door, he pressed the call button. "I want someone to come and clean this room, thoroughly. Someone else is required to move all of my unsoiled possessions to the guest room."

The voice on the other end asked no questions except, "Would you like the guest room to be freshened up?"

"If you like," Malik replied in a bored tone.

"Of course sir," and that was that. Malik still hadn't lost the overbearing authority he held over those who he had forced to work for him. Knowing this, the Egyptian gave a devious smirk.

I helped to give you that sort of rule. You know that. Instantaneously, Malik threw up mental blocks. His yami needed to learn how to respect the privacy of his mind. But it seemed his efforts were futile when he heard, Now, now hikari, don't be too hasty to push me away again. That will only result in pain for both of us. 

_Shut up. _Malik hissed at him. _Don't ever you dare try anything like what you did to me again. You'll pay with blood._ Malik was caught up in his anger, and didn't realize how silly he sounded. But Yami Malik did.

_Hikari, _his tone was the same as if he was a parent dealing with an insolent child, _don't be rash. It was my… mistake to try that today. Trust me, I know I will be… well none of that is your concern._ Malik was slightly startled, what had his yami been about to say? He couldn't ask, Yami Malik might snap on him, and besides, Malik could already tell that his dark side was done talking. On that final note, Malik strode out his door and down the hall to the guest room.

The guest room was quite a bit smaller than his room, but that was to be expected. Malik would only settle for one of the biggest rooms in the house for himself. That didn't mean it wasn't as decorated though. He saw to it that every room looked like a millionaire lived there, and a millionaire he was. The plush bleached sand colored carpet was soft and springy under his bare feet—this room had never been used by anyone before. He glanced around, take in his temporary room. All the furniture was made out of the same kind of dark colored wood and it was all highly polished. In the left hand corner, by a miniature bay window, there stood a desk. Parallel to the desk on the other side was the closet. Malik yanked it's door open and saw what he expected; nothing. There wasn't even a box or hanger in it. A bedside table held a simple lamp, and CD/Radio/Alarm clock. That brought him to the bed. The comforter was a deep shade of purple, with throw pillows of various lavender hues. He flopped gracelessly on top of the bed, messing the pillows and sheets. The comforter felt like it is was made out of suede, but Malik couldn't be to sure. But the room suited him well enough, and soon his eyes flickered shut. Of late, the Egyptian had been nothing but weary and tired.

His sleep didn't last very long. He was awoken by a sudden high-pitched strangled scream. Or so he thought. When Malik's violet eyes flew open, he found himself in utter darkness. But it was not like night, not even like the black of space. Just pure, unrelenting darkness as far as her could see. But his astonishment with the blackness was averted when another scream broke through the gloom. "Stop it! Stop, I beg of you! I didn't do anything to him!" This plea was followed by heart wrenching frightened filled crying.

Malik's brain instantly registered what was going on, having heard this kind of thing many times before, _Somebody is being tortured!_ He ran silently in the direction of the noises—or maybe he floated, he couldn't even tell if there was a floor in this never-ending void. The scene descended in front of him out of nowhere. His lavender eyes widened in complete horror. There was his yami, naked, bloody, and twitching. All around him—and on him—there were indistinguishable black eyeless clawed beasts. They were no bigger than a cat, but they were more terrifying than anything Malik had ever seen in his life. Their flesh made their surroundings pale in comparison, they were blacker than black. It was like they were living black holes from Hell.

"We told you to watch what you did," one of the things seemed to be speaking, "We warned you of the punishment that awaited you, should you do harm to him. Now experience pain, as you never have before. Look!" The creature let out an excited hiss as it raked it's black claws violently across Yami Malik's chest, causing the dark side to let loose another scream. But then, his pain-dulled eyes fell on Malik's horror stricken face, and all life flowed back into him.

"Hikari…" Yami Malik said softly, his eyes open with shock.

The shadow that had talked before approached Malik, "This is what your yami is. He is one of us."

"Then why is he with me? Why did he become part of me, replacing half of my soul?" Malik demanded to know.

"That is a fairly simple answer," But before the creature could explain why, Yami Malik attempted to throw himself at it, as if he didn't want the truth out. Several creatures leapt out of nowhere, attacking Yami Malik and bringing him down. The one who had spoken hissed in annoyance, and with a flick of his wrist, black cords rose up from the surroundings and bound around Malik's dark side, holding him tightly. "Now as I was saying. He is with you because—"

Yami Malik cut it off again, this time by yelling out, "Don't tell him you little piece of shit! I'll curse you all if you tell him. I'll curse you and this entire damn place. Leave him out of all of this! I'm warning you!" He let out an anguish whimper when the lead shadow clawed him across the face. Warm red blood dripped down across his lips, and slightly blinded him when it fell into his eyes.

"Silence!" It screeched. Now it was furious, Malik could tell. "You, curse us? That is impossible to do, especially with what we could to him. Your precious hikari… we would inflict more harm on him then you could even fathom. Do not care to test us out, you reject, for we will tear your entire existence apart. We are stronger than we were back then." Then the beast's tone changed to one of sinister delight, "Besides, don't you think he has a right to know about you, murderer?" Turning its attention back to Malik, it continued to explain. "Before Yami Malik came to you, he wrecked havoc in this place. He was a shadow being just like all of us here, but you could say he was worse than the devil himself. Yami Malik was a horrible being in this world, nobody could dispose of him, believe me, we tried. But then one day, near six years back or so, there was a prayer sent out to us. Someone, somewhere was requesting for all of his pain and suffering to end, he vowed revenge on several, and he needed our help. Well that solved our problem. If Yami Malik was contained in a simple human, we were sure his powers would diminish enough so on his return, we could kill him. But oh how wrong we were. We had sent him off to a ten-year-old boy—you, Malik. We could not believe how much hatred you harbored in your small body, and Yami Malik fed off that and became stronger. He was damaging you as well though, and soon we realized that Yami Malik had installed his own fail-safe, to say the least. He had devoured part of your soul and replaced it with himself. He sucked all means of evil from you into his spirit to materialize within your essence. It was a perfect plan. We would not harm a small human boy, and he knew it."

Malik was dumbfounded. His yami had used him. It was the dark sides fault he was half a spirit, it was all Yami Malik's fault. Malik slowly began to back up in overwhelming disbelief, but the creature held up his clawed hand. It was a silent signal for the human to wait. "The story does not end there, my dear. Yami Malik's sole purpose of existing is for destruction. So he influenced your mind to help him cause chaos on earth. Sure he used your abhorrence for your family's heritage as an excuse at first, but then he learned the power of possession. He could over take your mortal body finally, and he would create his own mass annihilation. And he did this for several years. You were aware of his presents, but unaware of his body possession and what he did. Those times are black holes in your memory. Then you had finally had enough, and you banished him from your body, and he silently complied, knowing he would be back, because you needed his half of your soul. So he would still be able to bestow his reign of disorder on earth. What Yami Malik didn't realize is that he as well would be weak without you, for you had half his soul. When he returned to us, we were ready to rid both our world and your world of him, until… you summoned him back. We could not ignore your summon. And we allowed him to go back to you, on one condition. He could do no more harm to you. And obviously he did, so we must punish him for his trouble."

Hot tears of anger weld up in Malik's eyes. Everything his yami had told him about caring and loving was a lie, nothing but a façade. He hated that damnable murderer with all his heart. There was no way to describe the hate Malik was experiencing. It could be said that Malik hated Yami Malik more than he hated himself. And with that realization, the shadows allowed him to return to the world of the humans, and Yami Malik was released from his bindings.

"You son of a bitch," Yami Malik growled as he ripped the head off the lead shadow with his bare hands. Black blood showered the yami, drenching him as it combined with his own red blood. His eyes seemed to glow with an aura of a most demonic evil. It was killing he wanted to let loose, and what better than on the things he hated most, his own kind. It was only right. They had twisted the truth to pervert Malik's mind against him. They had made it sound like he had never loved Malik, but on the contrary. Yami Malik had killed for the sake of his hikari happiness. In fact, Yami Malik would die for him, in order to preserve Malik's precious life, the life Yami Malik longed to be apart of. And the shadows had called him the monster. Black blood would rain from the skies of the dark land tonight, Yami Malik vowed it.

Yami Malik only returned to Malik's mind when he made sure every last one of the little bastards were dismembered. He called out tentatively to his light side, hoping he could be heard, _Hikari… they were lying, please listen to me._

_I'm not going to listen to you, so get out of my damn mind. Go back to where you came from! I don't care if I do die from half a soul. I can't bare you any longer!_ Malik's voice was so harsh, Yami Malik flinched mentally.

_But I can't leave… I can't leave you again, it would kill me. I love you too much… I love you…_ But Malik did not hear his yami's soft tone, or saddened voice. He could not here the sheer desperation his yami had flung out. Malik was done listening and had barred mental contact with him. As far as the blonde teen was concerned, Yami Malik no longer existed.

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A/N: Whew! Finally finished! Hope you enjoyed that chapter, I don't know how long it'll be till the next one. I've been very busy and inspiration had only come in small spurts. I'm also working on about seven other stories. Some are fanfictions, some aren't. So until next chapter, this is Froz over and out!


	10. Slave

Disclaimer: Okay, if by the tenth chapter you haven't gotten the idea, you're hopelessly moronic.

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Malik sighed—he was getting bored. The Millennium Rod—which he had strapped to his wounded back—was irritating and uncomfortable. "Hey there cutie," Malik looked up from running a lazy finger around the edge of his glass. Leaning towards him was one of the scantily clad exotic dancers that had been on stage earlier. "Mind if I have a seat?" the stripper inclined her head to an empty chair.

Malik shrugged, "Go ahead. I won't stop you."

She sat down and studied the disgruntled Egyptian before she said, "I've been watching you all evening. You've seemed pretty bored. What do you say you and I go off somewhere a little more… interesting, per say?" She batted her heavy mascara framed blue eyes suggestively. Malik couldn't help but to let a grim smile break across his face. That line—or something similar—was the reason why he had come to this rotting hellhole of a place. Of course, he wasn't waiting for that line so he could shag this hideous excuse of a human. Oh no, his plans were much, much different. He had to replace the mind slave Yami Malik had killed a week ago. Unfortunately, getting servants was not as easy as it use to be. There weren't many people out there who would mindlessly devote themselves to Malik's entire being. Thus he resorted to going out and picking up hookers and the destitute. Their weak mind frame was all to easy to crumble. But first, this new one needed to be trained.

"I agree. Let's leave this shit-can," Malik said in what he hoped was a lighthearted tone. He stood up and offered out his hand to her.

"Oh what a gentlemen," she giggled stupidly. "May I ask good sir's name?"

Malik knew the presupposed routine—a fake name in turn for a fake name—but she would need to know her future master's name. "I'm Malik," he said throwing in a grandeur bow. "And my I inquire your name, fair lady?"

"It's Kurumi, but you may call me whatever you like, Malik," at that she threw herself at him, and he went right along with it. It would be so much simpler to control her if she trusted him.

Only after he drove her around on his motorcycle and got her thoroughly drunk did he then take her to his house.

"This is where you live?" Kurumi hiccupped.

"Yes, and I would like for you to come inside." If she hadn't been so wasted, she might have noticed the sinister glee that flashed across Malik's features as he said this. He put his hand on the bare skin between her shirt and her waistline.

Warning shot through her buzz, "I don't know." Suddenly this big house didn't look so inviting. This feeling was instantly erased though.

Malik tickled her neck with his tongue and whispered in a sensuously, "Come on, it'll be fun. I promise." She eagerly followed him inside, unaware that she would probably never leave.

The moment Malik walked in the door with her, Kurumi knew something was up. His entire demeanor had drastically changed within those few moments.

"Master Malik," a male doorman addressed the Egyptian with a bow. When he returned to his stiff upright position, Kurumi could see into his blank, dull eyes.

Immediately, Malik put his plans to work. The teenager directed his attention to the mind slave that currently stood off to his side. "I want everyone to meet me in the servants quarters." As an after thought he added, "And I want you to do it quickly, else I'll kill you." Without a word, Malik's subordinate turned off to do his master's bidding.

The uneasy feeling Kurumi had began to flash warning lights in her mind. "I'm sorry, but I have to go," she groped behind her for the doorknob and turned it—it was locked. Malik completely ignored her comment and attempted leave. He roughly grabbed her wrist and started dragging her through the hallways. All the while Kurumi struggled and cried out, "Let me go!" She lashed out and in an instant Malik had the dagger of the Millennium Rod at her throat.

"If you even breathe, I'll slit your throat, so don't even try," Malik hissed venomously. "I'm normally gentler, but I've been rather pissy lately." He drew the blade away sideways so it touched her neck without actually leaving a mark. Kurumi took a gulp of air, and followed him placidly to her doom.

The pair reached a set of doors that Kurumi only inferred as the servants quarters. Malik gripped the antique brass handle and ripped one of the heavy wooden doors open and tossed the whore inside. "Met the newest member of the staff. I'll be back for her later," Malik snarled before he slammed the door shut and retreated to his temporary room.

Far off in the shadowed black, a lone voice hissed, "So the light falls deeper into the darkness…"

Yami Malik watched as his light side paced restlessly about the guest room. "Are you worried for him?" Yami Malik jumped at the noise. He turned to see a pitch-black figure enter his consciousness.

"You! I thought I killed all of you!"

"Yami Malik—that's what you're called now right? —Did you not forget that we have learned new abilities? Regeneration, my friend, tis a wonderful thing," the being chuckled darkly.

"How did you get in my mind?" Yami Malik growled at his former species.

"When you had your blood bath in our realm, you forgot that you had your own injuries. Our blood as seeped itself into your veins, your mind is open to our power," it grinned mischievously. "I'd watch out for your hikari… look how dark his soul is getting!" the shadow called out gleeful as it faded way.

Yami Malik cast a sidelong glance at Malik in order to see his aura. Sure enough, the once light lavender colored air that had previously surrounded Malik was turning into a violent shade of purple—similar to his own. Yami Malik was horrified, what was he doing to his hikari? His evil seemed to be seeping into Malik. Casting out a single strand of his own aura, he attached it to Malik's. Despite his hatred for what he was about to do, it needed to be done. He put all of his energy into draining the dark power out of his light's aura. Though he was using energy, this should have been making him feel stronger for he would have been filled with the malignant strength he was taking from Malik.

A tearing feeling filled Yami Malik's senses. Suddenly he realized Malik's aura was sucking _his_ in. In a panic to regain back what was his, he gave a sudden lurch and snapped away Malik's entire aura. With a withered gasp, Malik fainted. Yami Malik sighed in relief and took control of Malik's body. The sixteen year old needed time to rebuild the aura stolen from him. Yami Malik knew what he did was wrong, but it was all just to save his hikari from sinking into the darkness.

"Sir?" Yami Malik snapped his head at the door—a servant had just walked in. "Sir, what will you have us do to the new one?" Yami Malik could only infer that Malik had fetched himself a new toy.

Sighing at this newest act of evil, Yami Malik responded with, "I'll take care of it later."

Unbeknownst to all of them—Malik, Yami Malik, and even the shadow beasts—Malik's aura was feeding off Yami Malik's shadow-tainted one. It drew in the powers of the shadow beasts and began to repair his psychical wounds. They're blood lusting seeped into Malik's mind. Little did any of them know; Malik's soul would soon be consumed. The line and balance between light and dark was about to be erased.

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A/n: Yes, I know short chapter! Sorry for not updating it quickly, I've been brain dead. Also sorry for the random character, Kurumi. You most likely will never hear her by name again. She was just a means to meet an end, and nothing more. Anyways, since I have hit chapter ten, I decided to go back and completely revamp all the other chapters. So if you're up for a good rereading, go back and take a peak. The title of this chapter has a double meaning, lets see if anyone can guess!


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